Mistress
by TheLittlestRaindrop
Summary: As a nanny to Lord and Lady Phantomhive's children, your life should be straightforward. However, things are seldom straightforward when you're in love with your employer.


**A/N: A request piece for LonelyStargazer. I hope you all enjoy ^.^**

'Pwease can we haf annuder story read?' A small voice asks you shyly. 'It helps us sweep.' The owner of said voice looks at you, eyes wide and expectant. Unfortunately for him, puppy dog eyes don't work on you, especially given your profession.

You work as an on-site nanny for Lord Vincent Phantomhive and his wife Rachel. You've been here for just over two years now, watching over their two little boys with the kind of care and professionalism expected of a Phantomhive servant. Your job can be extremely taxing at times, given how many enemies Lord Phantomhive has made over the years. Still, the pay is excellent, and watching those boys grow is a reward in and of itself. However, you fear that it may soon be time to leave this place forever...

You give the boy a stern look. 'No, Master Ciel. I've already read you both a bedtime story. It's time for you to get some sleep now.' You stand up from your seat, and head for the door.

'But, but, but…' Another voice contributes to the conversation. Honestly, you've never known anyone who loves stories as much as these Phantomhive boys do. Perhaps they get it from their father…

You smile at them. 'I'm sorry boys, but no means no. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow. Your mother is due back from visiting your aunt tomorrow afternoon, and I'd hate her to return to two overtired sons. Now, if you're good, and go to bed nice an early tomorrow, I promise I'll read you an extra story tomorrow. How does that sound?'

Both boys immediately perk up, and reply in unison. 'Thanks, Miss!' They then snuggle themselves into bed, closing their eyes and trying to force themselves to sleep. You roll your eyes at them affectionately; bribery works every time.

You leave the room, closing the door gently behind you.

Now that your shift is technically over, you're free to do as you wish for the rest of the evening. Your first stop is the library on the other side of the manor, where you plan to put away the book you've just been reading to the boys. Then, you'll stop by Lord Phantomhive's study. He'll be in there as always, writing out a report or planning a party, or whatever it is that well-to-do Lords do. You'll give his door a firm knock, and he'll grant you entry. You'll tell him that you're retiring for the evening, and he'll flash you that gorgeous smile of his, the one that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. He'll bid you goodnight, and you'll scurry back to your room like a nervous schoolgirl, cheeks ablaze and mind racing. The rest of your evening shall be spent trying to alleviate the dull ache between your legs, as you imagine what it would be like to kiss away that smile of his…

You'd be lying to yourself if you said your relationship with Lord Phantomhive was strictly professional. Well, that wouldn't be a lie per-say, as your relationship thus far has been professional, the only exceptions being the few times he's asked you to join him for a nightcap. Those have occurred more frequently since Rachel went to London for the month. The poor man must miss her terribly, if he's willing to settle for your company constantly. Still, you doubt he'd do such a thing if he knew how you feel about him. You've had a crush on the man since day one, and over time it's developed into something a little more serious than that.

You might even go so far as to say you've fallen in love with the man.

You know in your heart that nothing will ever come of it. He's a married man for starters, a Lord for goodness sake, and he has two young sons. If only one of these things was present then maybe, maybe you'd have a chance. All three together however… the man is unattainable, which makes your feelings foolish and unwelcome. It's reached the point now where you know you'll have to leave this place soon, if only to spare both yourself and him the humiliation that would follow if your feelings are ever discovered. You've heard of a few interesting-sounding jobs up North, and plan to investigate them as soon as you're given a day off. You only hope Lord Phantomhive doesn't pester you for answers when you leave. He can be so very astute at times, so he'd be sure to see through any flimsy reason you give him straight away…

Now really isn't the time to think of such things. You don't know for certain if you're leaving yet. If you can't find alternative employment, you'll just have to keep you head down here for a while longer. After all, you've kept your feeling a secret so far, and if you can't continue to keep them secret, then what kind of Phantomhive servant are you?

You've been so busy thinking things through that you've made it to the library without even realising. Your body must have moved of its own free will whilst your mind was occupied. You enter without knocking, certain that it'll be empty this time of night.

You make your way over to the children's bookcase, and almost shriek when you realise that someone else is in the library.

You manage to stop yourself when you realise that it's Lord Phantomhive.

He looks over at you, a small smile forming on his lips. It's not the dazzling smile you're used to, and that worries you. Is he okay? What's he doing here all be himself at night? Is it even your place to ask him such questions? You don't want to overstep the mark with him…

He speaks before you can ask him anything. 'Good evening. I take it the boys are both asleep?' His voice sounds more maudlin than usual, confirming your suspicion that something isn't right with him.

You answer somewhat apprehensively. 'They should be soon, my Lord. I told them I'd read them an extra story tomorrow if they settled down now. After all, I assume you don't want them overtired for Lady Phantomhive's return tomorrow.' At the mention of his wife's name, Lord Phantomhive's face seems to fall even further.

'That's tomorrow, is it? I'd completely forgotten. Some husband I am...' Is that why he's so gloomy? He's feeling like a bad husband? Maybe you should say something, if only to put his mind at ease.

'You're a wonderful husband, Lord Phantomhive. You've just been busy, that's all. It's natural to let things slip when you're busy, that doesn't mean you love her any less.' You offer him a sympathetic smile.

He makes a noise of dismissal. 'I'm beginning to wonder if I love her at all.' His confession shocks you. Has he truly fallen out of love with her?

You shake your head at him. 'You're probably just overthinking things, my Lord. I'm sure that you care for your wife a great deal. You should get some sleep, help you to think better.'

He snorts out a laugh. 'Is that an order, coming from one of my staff?' Oh, shit. You've overstepped your mark. You should apologise to him immediately, before he fires you. It'll be so much harder to find a new job if you're fired from this one...

You make a few desperate stuttering sounds, trying to apologise to him. He lets out another laugh. 'I was only joking, you know. It's nice knowing that you care about my mental state. Then again, knowing that you care at all makes things so much harder for me.' If he thinks it's hard for him, he should hear what it's like for you…

He rises from his chair, and begins to make his way over to you. You can't read his expression, and that troubles you. What is the man thinking? Does he have a problem with you? Unwilling to hold his stare, and somewhat concerned about what you'll try to do when he reaches you, you walk over to the bookcase, determined now to complete your task and leave, lest his proximity causes you to behave recklessly. You shouldn't have allowed yourself to be left alone with him, not with your feelings becoming difficult to contain. Removing yourself from the situation really is the most sensible course of action.

As you reach up to put the book away, you feel a hand cover your own. It's warm, and so wonderfully soft. The hand of a man who works more with his brain than his brawn. You can practically feel the heat of it permeating through your own kin, and making its way through your whole body, setting between your legs. No man should be able to affect a woman like that, but then again, Lord Phantomhive has always seemed like more than your average man.

He brings his mouth next to your ear, his breath even warmer than his touch. 'Do you have any idea what you do to me?' If your legs didn't already feel like jelly, his words practically have them melting. You really need to get out now, because if he continues talking like that…

Your mouth however seems to have other ideas, and it somehow operates of its own free will. 'I could ask you the same thing, my Lord.' You hear him gasp, yet you can't decide if you've said the right thing or not. What is the right thing to do in a situation like this? Is he being genuine, or is he still toying with you? If the latter is true, then opening your mouth might just have been the most stupid thing you've ever done.

His other hand grabs your waist, and pulls your body closer to him. 'Minx. You've ruined me, you know? I was perfectly happy to go along with the path my family chose for me. I was happy to choose a wife from the two selected for me. I was happy to share my bed with her, and to have her bare my children. Then you came into my life, and I came to realise that I wasn't happy at all. If only I'd been given the chance to find a wife on my own… I may well have chosen a woman like you. Then again, if I had, you never would have come into my employ, and I wouldn't know that I wanted such a woman. Life can be so terribly unfair at times. Why can't a man just have what he wants from time to time?' You're now well past the point of wanting to leave this conversation. If your employer is speaking to you like that, then surely anything goes? Now might be the best chance to have to clear the air with him, and let him know just how you're feeling.

You press yourself against him further, trying to test the waters. When all you get is a grunt, you speak. 'You have a wife, two sons, a huge mansion… you seem to be a man who gets what he wants most of the time. As for me, I'm the woman who's spent two years watching the object of her affection play house with a woman he doesn't even love apparently. Tell me again how life is cruel, my Lord.' His hand travels upwards from your waist, settling just below one of your breasts.

He leans in, this time nibbling on your earlobe before speaking. 'Life is cruel, because someday, I'll have to watch the object of my affection do the same. Unless of course I decide to lock you away in this manor of mine, but what would that achieve? You deserve more than that. A beauty like yours should be allowed to bloom, free from any confines. The kindest thing for both of us would be if you left this place, yet I fear I'd do anything to keep you here. My thoughts keep going around in circles, to the point where I just don't know what to do any more. Should I force you to leave, and spare us both any future pain? Or shall I allow you to remain, and force myself to control my longing for you? Or shall I ravish you, and convince you to become my mistress?' You're beginning to think that you dozed off after reading the boys their story. Surely this can't be real? You're going to wake up the second it gets interesting. Still, if it is only a dream, then what have you got to lose? And, if this does turn out to be real, do you really want to miss an opportunity like this? In the two years that you've known him, you've never once seen Lord Phantomhive repeat an offer. This may be the only opportunity to do something like this with your no-longer-secret love. Besides, you'd be lying if the thought of being his mistress doesn't excite you. All the secret rendezvous in the dead of night, sneaking in passionate kisses between locals, thinking of things to tell the lady of the house, when she notices the little marks your lover will inevitably leave on you…

You grab Lord Phantomhive's hand, and bring it so that it covers your breast. 'I don't need any convincing, my Lord. Just tell me what you want of me.'

He flips your body around to face him with almost alarming speed, somehow managing to pin both of your hands over your head and against the bookcase, using only one of his. He begins pulling at the front of your dress, trying to free your breasts.

He begins to tell you exactly what he wants. 'Firstly, you're to call me 'Vincent' when we're alone. I don't want to bring titles into our relationship. Secondly, I won't allow any other man to touch you for the duration of our affair. You are, however, free to court as you see fit. Just make sure they refrain from doing anything untoward. Finally, we must this a secret from everyone. My position doesn't allow for anything less that a perfect reputation. As such, you must make sure to remain totally professional in my presence. I shall tell you when we can initiate relations. You are free to reject my advances if they are unwelcome, though. This relationship only happens if both of us want it to. If, for whatever reason, you decide to end things, we'll stop all contact immediately. You have been a wonderful nanny to my boys, one that I'd happily recommend to anyone. Therefore, when this ends, I shall be more than happy to find you employment elsewhere. I'm hoping it won't come to that for a long while though; there are so many things I plan to do to you.' With that, he finally manages to free your breasts from the confines of your dress. If you weren't already aroused by his actions, the cold air of the library would have caused both of your nipples to harden. As it is, they're already completely solid, so Vincent takes one into his mouth, causing you to mewl with pleasure.

You whole body begins to writhe under his touch, especially when he free hand toys with your free nipple. Your arms struggle against his grip, desperate to touch your new lover. Your legs rub together of their own free will, your groin longing for direct contact. You hope he doesn't tease you for long, or else it'll be too much to bare.

You continue to let out a litany of little noises, music to the ears of your lover. When he hears his own name amongst the noises, he abandons your breasts in favour of attacking your neck with his mouth. He bites and suckles at it like a starving man, almost certainly leaving a trail of marks all along your neck and shoulder; you make a mental note to wear a dress with a high collar tomorrow. You can hear him muttering something into your neck that sounds suspiciously like your name, but you can't be certain. You're not certain of anything evermore, except that you never want this night to end.

Vincent works his way back up to your neck, growling in your ear. 'Well, aren't you a vocal little minx? I might just have to gag you next time, if only to stop you waking the entire household.' He pulls back to he can look at you. He smirks at you, looking you dead in the eye. 'Just this once though, you can be as loud as you want. Although, you may want to tone it down when I drag you into my chambers when I'm finished with you here. I'd hate to have to explain to the boys why daddy is making their nanny scream his name.' He presses his lips against yours, his tongue asking for entry almost immediately. You grant it willingly, and he drops your wrists in favour of grabbing your hips with both hands and lifting you up, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist. Your hands weave their way into his hair, grabbing onto it to help you keep balance.

Vincent takes a few steps forward, using his whole body to pin you to the bookcase. When he's certain you're secure enough, he sneaks a hand underneath your dress, and heads straight for your underwear. He moans into your mouth when he realises that they're soaked right thought.

He pulls back from the kiss to speak. 'I think I shall have to add a fourth instruction. You are hereby forbidden to wear underwear, if only for fear that you may end up ruining them all as our affair gets evermore passionate.' He steals away your reply with a kiss, before trying to tear your underwear off of your body.

When his initial attempt fails, Vincent grabs a knife from his pocket, carefully slicing through the too-sturdy straps of your underwear. It falls to the ground almost silently, although the same thing can't be said of the knife, with hits the floor with a metallic clanging noise. You'd find the noise quite unstintingly, had Vincent not taken it upon himself you insert a finger inside of you at the exact same moment. You scream him name into his mouth, and can feel him grinning wickedly against your lips.

He risks removing his other hand from your hip, so he can deal with his own clothing. He heads straight for the button on his fly, undoubtedly desperate to liberate his erection. He sticks a second finger into you as he shoves his trousers and underwear down his legs in one go, and you cling onto him for dear life, an orgasm beginning to grow deep inside your groin.

Vincent removes his hand from you, and begins to focus on lining himself up with your entrance. His erection ends up sliding across it a few times, struggling to gain purchase due to the ample lubrication your arousal provides. When he finally finds the right angle, he doesn't hesitate, pushing into you without a moments hesitation.

You break the kiss so you can scream his name, before realising that you really shouldn't have done that. What if you wake the children? You look Vincent in the eyes, worried that you've taken his permission a little too far.

You concerned look earns you a breathy laugh. 'I told you, you can be as loud as you want this time. In fact, I actively encourage you to be vocal. I plan to save up all of these wonderful mewls of yours for future use. After all, a man can get very lonely on business trips. So please, scream for me, my little minx. Let me know how much you want me.' With that, he begins to pull out slowly, before thrusting back in forcefully, earning him a surprised grunt. That seems to spur him on, as he does it again, only this time much faster and with even more force. He repeats this a few times, before setting a brutal pace that has you alternating between screaming his name and thanking God for his very existence. You suddenly begin to feel jealous of Lady Phantomhive, who must get to experience Vincent's sexual prowess on a regular basis. Still, now it not the time to be thinking about that. Now is the time to be focusing on the man in front of you, and the orgasm preparing to shatter your mind.

As his thrusts continue, the force ends up knocking most of the books off of the shelf, include the one that you'd only just put back there. With all of the books falling, it feels like the whole world is crumbling around you, yet Vincent remains a constant fixture. It's as if you two are the only real things left in the world. Everything else is just an illusion.

The coil in you finally snaps, and you orgasm hard, your inner walls squeezing your lover with almost alarming force. The sudden tightness is too much for Vincent, who finishes just after, biting down on your neck to keep himself from screaming your name loud enough to wake the entire country; and there he is suggesting that you need a gag!

When you both come down from your respective highs, he sets you down gently, making sure you can stand properly before he lets go of you. He bends over to redress himself, before reaching over and caressing your check.

His smile is an apologetic one. 'I fear I got a little too carried away there. I had planned to tell you of my feelings in a far more gentlemanly fashion, but for some reason I couldn't. I fear that I was driven more by my trousers than by my brain, and for that, I'm sorry. However, everything I said was truthful. As I cannot have you as my wife as I'd like, I want you to be my mistress. It may sound selfish of me, but I fear I simply cannot live without your company. If you think my approach has been to callous, I'll be glad to surreptitiously court you until you're satisfied that I am a man worthy of having such a wonderful woman. Alternatively, my offer still stands if you wish to find work elsewhere. The choice is entirely yours.' He looks fairly contrite, though you're inclined to believe he's not as half as sorry as he says he is.

You pick up your ruined underwear, cover up your exposed breasts, and strut over to him, this time wearing a smirk of your own. 'I believed you mentioned something about dragging me into your chambers?' You give him a wink for added effect.

He responds with a low chuckle. 'I think this may be the start of a most wonderful relationship.'


End file.
